


Can't Fix Me

by bluejorts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accident, Alternate Universe, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Multiple Suicide Attempts, Scars, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, there is some porn in here later, too many emotions, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:12:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6408298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejorts/pseuds/bluejorts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel was close to falling. Sam was willing to duct tape their hands together if it stopped him from letting go.</p><p>Alternatively titled: How Many Times Can Gabriel Novak Try to Die Before it Sticks</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flightless Birds

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer/excuse: I don't really know much about hospitals, and almost the aim of this is to just let shit out. I'm going to update it weekly unless I can't, until there's nothing more to be told.

Gabriel had always dreamed of flying. He wished he had been born a bird, had wished that since he was able to think about it. When he was younger he would sit on the roof outside his window until his mother caught him and yelled at him too come inside lest the tiles broke and he fell. Ironic, considering his current situation. 

When he was twenty he saved up the money needed and got his first tattoo. It hurt like a son of a bitch but it was so worth it. The gold outlines of feathers on his shoulders met him every morning when he looked in the mirror. He loved the ink; took off his shirt more than he probably should, just so that the general public could witness his wings. 

Obviously, those wings would never help him to fly. To be honest, he hoped that didn't. That would make this quite awkward. 

Gabriel had always dreamed of flying, and today he was making that dream a reality. Not on a hang glider, or in a plane. Not in a hot air balloon or anything else. On top of his apartment block on a miserable, wet day when he knew nobody would look up and see him, nobody would try to stop him. 

His toes hung slightly off the ledge, his eyes were focused below him, at the ground so dizzyingly far away. Adrenalin coursed through him and pushed him forwards, or backwards, both. There was some part of him that didn't want to fly, that never wanted to fly. Sometimes that part was the stronger part. But not today, not when it mattered most. The rain hit him and soaked through his clothes as if it wanted to help him, to weigh him down so much that he had no choice but to fall.

He hung one foot over the edge, the other staying firm. The air didn't hold him, this wasn't some cartoon, where he could run off the cliff and be safe until he looked down. Or maybe it was, he'd never find out, he was already looking down. He bent his knee, his foot was lower than the edge of the building, he felt like a ballet dancer. A voice at the back of his head screamed at him to stop, another screamed at him to fall. He was so sick of having to listen to both of them, to feel both of them. He was sick of the guilt at his feelings and the disarray of his thoughts. 

He flew.

The news reports say he should have died. They say he hit the ground hard enough, they say he jumped from high enough. Yet somehow he managed to fuck it up.

They told him he broke the bones in both of his legs, the right side of his ribs, fractured his pelvis, and completely fucked his right arm. He had concussion, a punctured lung, and half the organs in his body were where they should not be. He was in an induced coma for two days after the rounds and rounds of surgery.

The first thing he said when he woke up was “Did it work?” 

The answer he got was “No.”

Naturally, he burst into tears. Had he been braver he would have ripped all the medical equipment from himself and run to finish his flight. But he wasn't, and he was too weak to even try (later he'd wonder if he really was, or if he was just being a pussy about that too, that was just how his mind worked). 

He cried for a solid hour, took the tissues from the nurses but never used them, let the tears roll down his cheeks, down his neck, to dampen his collar, cool and unpleasant against his skin. 

He was still crying when his mother arrived. She strode across the room with tears in her eyes and held his left hand so tight it would have hurt more than the fall had it not been for the painkillers. She asked him why he did it, she asked him what he was doing, she asked him why he never called, she asked him questions he couldn't understand for her sobbing. He couldn't answer her. He couldn't tell her that his mind was broken, that it demanded attention and that it told him he had problems that he probably didn't have just because it wanted him to be interesting, to be important. It made him want to hurt himself but it was too scared to so it hated itself for that. It had been telling him to fly for so long - but then it was telling him to only try to fly, to not actually fly. Just so people would notice how fucked up he was.

How do you tell your mother that. How the fuck do you tell the woman who  _ created  _ you that you're broken or faking or just an idiot.

He told her he got fired, he couldn't see a way forward. That was true too. Not as true as everything else, but true nevertheless. She cried even harder. 

She didn't leave his side. She stayed there for the whole day, until she got a call from work that was urgent. More urgent than a son that had just tried to die. That was just how it was. She had to leave, she promised she would return, bring his siblings. He made a note to tell the nurses to stop that from happening. He’d spent so long pushing them away from his broken self, he couldn't let them push their way through back into his life if he was just going to end it the minute he was free of this place. 

The nurse came in. He was tall, that was the first thing Gabriel noticed about him. He was tall and built like a tree and he looked like he would be more at home on an Abercrombie and Fitch bag than in hospital scrubs tending to Gabriel's broken everything. He smiled kindly at Gabriel. Gabriel wanted to yell at him to quit being nice because he didn't deserve it.

“Hi, my name’s Sam. I'm your nurse, I'm here to help you with anything you need, just press the button on the side of your bed.” He said in a voice as sweet as sugar, with a tone that was to sincere for Gabriel to stomach.

“Thank you.” He said. His voice was like nails and he was bitter at the world. 

“Now you’ve just had some major surgery, so I’m afraid we can’t give you any food. But I can get you any entertainment you want, and the remote to the TV is on your left.”

Gabriel tried to nod in response and grunted, he could feel the tightness of the stitches and bandages and stared up at the ceiling, unfocused. He was hyper aware of the nurse still stood calmly in the corner of the room. 

“C’n I help you?” He asked.

“No, I just want to make sure you're okay.” Sam told him.

“I jus’ jumped off a fuckin’ building. Fuck d’you think?” He slurred angrily. “‘M not gonna do ‘nything stupid.” He couldn't exactly do anything at  _ all.  _ Half his body was smashed to fuck and he was way too jacked up on painkillers to feel the rest of him. And even if he could… well, no, if he could he would try to finish it. He didn't want to deal with the consequences that he was going to face anyway. 

“Let me rephrase that. I want to keep you company.” 

Gabriel craned his aching neck and squinted at the nurse, properly looking him over. His hair was tied back in a short ponytail and pink hair clips held back loose strands. He leaned back against the wall, feet flat on the floor, wearing the standard scrubs, shirt slightly too short, trousers slightly too wide. 

“Why th’fuck d’you wanna do that?” He asked, even his mother hadn’t wanted to stay. 

“Because you need company otherwise you’re left alone with your thoughts, and judging by the fact that you  _ did _ just try to kill yourself, those aren’t gonna be nice thoughts.”

“To-to- wha’ever the fuck tha’ word is.” Gabriel muttered. He didn't give a shit what this guy thought. He'd rather be left alone with his thoughts that some jackass offering false sympathies.

“Touche?” Sam suggested.

“Yeah, tha’.” 

Sam pushed off from the wall and came to sit on a chair to his left. 

“Was that your mother?” He asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“She seems sweet, she seems to care for you.” Yeah, seems to. Doesn’t mean she did. No, she did, probably.

“Yeah.”

“Why’d she leave?” He asked cautiously. “Only if you want to tell me.”

“Had to work, she’s a lawyer, couldn’ get time off the case, ‘s too big.”

“Ah, that makes sense. My mom was a lawyer too. Of sorts.”

“Sor’s?” 

“She was a child defence lawyer or something, helped get kids out of abusive homes and stuff like that.”

“Kudos t’her.” Gabriel tried to smile, his face hurt. “C’n you turn u’ the painki’rs please?” 

“I can, but only a bit, and you’ll probably end up asleep.” Sam warned. 

“Yeah, yeah, do i’.” 


	2. Family Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cas can you c a l m down

His mother came back while he was asleep, she was there when he woke up. With his siblings.

Sam was also still there. He stood calmly in the corner of the room and watched the family interact with gentle eyes. He didn't feel like an intrusion, not to Gabriel at least. 

When he opened his eyes he was met by Castiel jumping up and down chanting ‘he's awake he's awake’ and shaking his mother's arm. Cas looked so much bigger than when he’d last seen him. Granted, that had been a year ago. His mother woke with a start and immediately her eyes filled with tears. 

“Thank God, I was worried - I wasn't sure when you would wake up.” She wasn't sure if he was going to wake up at all, he could hear it in her voice. She’s never say that in front of his brothers though. Cas was still jumping around in excitement, and Michael and Lucifer were asleep on the other chair, practically on top of each other. Funny, they used to argue too much to be allowed in the same room together at times. He wondered if they still did.

“I'm ‘wake, I'm okay.” He told her. His throat was as dry as his humor and he could barely swallow. He directed his next speech to Sam. “Could you get me some water?” 

Sam nodded and left the room.

“How you feeling?” His mother asked. “Does anything hurt? Do you need more painkillers?”

“Y'know morphine’s addictive, Mom. Don't wanna be walking out of here with a ‘d r u g’ problem.” He tried for a joke. 

“You spelled drug!” Cas exclaimed proudly. He’d been spelling for the exact purpose of Cas  _ not _ understanding. 

“Yeah I did, nice spelling little buddy.” He grinned. Cas beamed in response and jumped up and down on the spot. The kid was a human bouncy ball. 

“I'm top of my class.” He boasted. 

It was then that Michael and Luce woke up. They must have had some kind of twin connection, because they both opened their eyes and groaned at the same time. They also simultaneously cheered ‘Gabe' when they saw that he was awake, and sent each other matching glares. 

Luce scrambled off of the chair, elbowing his brother in the face as he did. He'd bleached his hair, making it easy to tell which twin was which. That and the birthmark on his temple were the only differences between the two.

“Hey man, you okay?” Gabriel asked. Had he been able to, he would have ruffled his hair or punched him in the shoulder. 

“Uh, who  _ cares _ ? What happened to  _ you _ ? Why’d you do it, asshole?”

Gabriel's stomach turned. He hadn't anticipated this. “I, ah, I. Mom,  _ deje la habitación con Cas por favor _ ?” Take Cas out of the room please?

“ _ Gabriel, qué  _ -” Gabriel what -

“Ahora _ , por favor _ .”  _ Now,  _ please.

“Hey! Stop speaking Spanish, it's not fair!” Cas whined. “I'm not allowed to learn it until I'm in high school!”

“Come on Castiel, your brothers need to talk.” 

“But  _ Mom _ .” 

“Now, Castiel.” 

Gabriel kept his eyes on his mother until the door shut. Sam came back in, jug of water in one hand, plastic cups in the other. He returned to standing in the corner, eyes out the window. 

He turned his head slowly back to Luce. Michael was stood next to him now, they both stared at him with demanding blue eyes.

“Look, boys -”

“No, don't fucking ‘look, boys’ us.” Luce spat, tucking his tongue into the space between his bottom teeth and lip. He was glaring, but the tears shining in the corners of his eyes betrayed his true feelings. “Tell us why the  _ fuck _ you tried to kill yourself.” 

“I - look. I can't sugar coat it for you.” 

“We aren't asking you to.” Michael muttered. His tears were already falling, his face cast downwards.

“I just really didn't want to live any more. I just lost my job, and I didn't want to start over.” 

“That's it? That's the only reason?” 

“Yeah.” Gabriel lied through his teeth.

“Fucking hell, Gabriel. You're such an idiot. So what? You thought you could stay away for us for a year and we’d just forget about you?” Luce hissed.

Gabriel nodded, there was hardly anything else he could do. His voice had left him. 

“Fuck you, okay. You leaving for a single fucking year isn't going to stop us from caring about you. We're your family, we love you, you cunt.” 

Luce punched the bed next to Gabriel, hard enough that Gabriel could feel the tremors. 

“Knock knock.” Castiel yelled from outside the door.

“Come in.” Michael responded, coughing away the lump in his throat. 

The door opened and Cas bounded back in, followed by their mother. She looked upset, Castiel was pouting.

“Mommy has to go back to work.” He grumbled. 

“I'm sorry boys, I - this case, I can't afford to miss work time.” Gabriel nodded again. The twins bid him a quiet goodbye, Luce squeezed his hand as hard as possible, and Michael pressed a teary kiss to his cheek. His mother lifted Cas up so that he could press a sloppy kiss to the corner of his mouth, and she herself wiped his cheek and kissed him there.

“I'm sorry.” She whispered. “I love you.” 

His siblings and his mother came to visit once every day except on Tuesdays and Thursdays. For the rest of the time he was fussed over by doctors. And when he was finally alone, Sam was still there. Sam never seemed to leave. 

Gabriel got used to him after about a week. He was there even after Gabriel was moved into a new room, with other people. Gabriel suspected him to live in the hospital.

Of the time that Gabriel  _ was  _ alone (but for Sam) most of it was spent sleeping. The time that wasn't, was spent talking to Sam. Or listening to him, if his chest was too tight to talk.

Sam had a pretty interesting life, when he wasn't stuck in the hospital supervising people that had tried to kill themselves. His brother had a tattoo parlour a few blocks away, and had given Sam a few himself (hence the long sleeves that he always wore). Gabriel told him the story behind his wings one day when Sam was washing him. He didn't tell him the stories behind his scars, he hoped he’d figure it out. 

Sam had flown before. He’d been hang gliding, on a hot air balloon, cliff jumping. He told Gabriel all about it, about his travels with his father and brother. He’d been almost everywhere. He really was something of a storyteller. He told Gabriel stories about himself, and stories about mythical creatures, creatures like the night weaver; the man who puts the stars in the sky in the evening and blows them away in the morning. Creatures like the sea horses that emerged from the froth of the waves to stampede along the beach when no humans could see them.


	3. Tuesdays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> im hungry man, im so hungry

Gabriel was discharged from the hospital with a prescription for antidepressants and scheduled, obligatory therapy once a month. He was, however, still in a wheelchair. And by some incredible turn of events, Sam was assigned to be his aide. Meaning he basically lived with Gabriel. He arrived at his house at eight in the morning, and worked until ten at night. He made him breakfast in the morning (he wouldn’t let him eat all the crap he usually ate though, which Gabriel despised), made him lunch and dinner. He forced him to leave the house during the day, took him to the park and forced him to feed the ducks. Gabriel hardly ever did shit like that when he wasn’t wheelchair bound.

“What’s your favourite colour?” Sam asked one day. Gabriel was lying on the couch channel surfing while Sam cooked his dinner. His apartment was small, and the kitchen joined onto the living room.

“Red.” Gabriel answered after a moment of thought. “Why?”

“No reason.” Sam responded. Gabriel heard the stove lighting.

Ten minutes later Sam came over carrying a plate piled high with pancakes covered in strawberries and red syrup. Gabriel’s mouth turned into Niagra falls.

“I know you were pissed I was keeping you and your sugar apart.” Sam grinned.

“Oh my God, I love you.” Gabriel beamed. Sam’s face turned about five shades darker red than the pancakes. Gabriel held out his good arm demandingly and Sam handed him the plate and a fork. Once he was sure Gabriel wasn’t going to drop the plate or choke from eating too fast, he moved himself and his red cheeks back into the kitchen to grab his own plate. He came back into the room with a plate that was green. His pancakes were topped with salad and ranch. 

“That’s sacrilegious.” Gabriel declared. 

Sam tilted his head at him and chuckled as he sat down. “I worship false idols.” He shrugged.

“That’s no golden steak, that’s literally Satan’s favourite meal.” Gabriel glared at the food. Sam poked his tongue out at him and Gabriel found his eyes caught on it. 

“If you don’t stop insulting my food I’m swapping with you.” Sam warned. Gabriel’s mouth opened to retaliate but immediately slammed shut. No way was he giving Sam his damn strawberries.

“Okay fine, have fun with your damn rabbit food, Bugs.” Gabriel grumbled, shoving a strawberry into his mouth. 

Pancake Tuesday became a thing from then on. Gabriel would throw pillows at Sam whenever he even tried to make the pancakes healthy, and Sam would threaten to not make him any at all. 

“What do you want on your pancakes today?” Sam asked, two weeks later. He leaned his head over the sofa in front of Gabriel’s face, hair falling in a curtain, blocking the TV from view.

Gabriel had never had much of an impulse control. That was why he didn’t let himself in high places without company usually. That was why he didn’t own a pair of scissors that weren’t safety scissors. That was why he never let himself cook with knives too often. That was why he struggled so much.

Sam’s irises were dark brown around his pupils, his eyes were shining. His mouth was upturned and his lips were pink. Gabriel's impulse control didn't even try.

He leaned forwards and caught them in his own. Sam was still for the longest time. For a moment Gabriel felt like he’d made the biggest mistake in his life. Then Sam kissed him back. It wasn’t easy, it was sloppy and awkward, because Sam was upside down and Gabriel was struggling to lean forwards. 

Sam pulled away first and his head disappeared upwards. His footsteps came around the sofa and his lips were on Gabriel’s again, but properly this time. His hands framed Gabriel on the back of the couch as he leaned down.

“So, do you - do you want to stay here for the night?” 

“Yes, God yes. But you know we can’t…”

“I know, I know. I  _ am  _ the one with the broken bones.”

Sam grinned. “Okay, sass me why don’t you?”

Gabriel grinned in return and caught his lips again.


	4. The Two Person PTA Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i dont?? know??

After two and a half months Gabriel’s bones had healed. Sam took him to physical therapy every three days. Gabriel really did  _ not _ want to go, because if he went he’d be out of the wheelchair, he’d be able to look after himself. Sam would be gone. He did not want Sam gone. 

“Saaaam.” He whined one afternoon after a session. “Can we get McDonalds, pleeease.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. He lifted Gabriel out of his chair and into his seat. Gabriel had originally complained about this, but then he discovered that it was very difficult to drag yourself into a car with one arm and very little upper body strength. He waited to respond until he'd folded the chair into the boot of the car and strapped himself in beside Gabriel.

“We're not going to McDonalds.” He announced firmly.

“Pleeeease?” Gabriel pouted. Sam gave him a sideways glance and rolled his eyes.

“No way. Do you  _ know  _ what they put into their meat?” 

“You sound like a fucking soccer mom.” Gabriel grumbled. “I'm so sorry,  _ Sandra _ .” 

“Amanda please, show some respect.” Sam snorted. “At least I only feed my children healthily.”

“Barbra! You know full well that I  _ work  _ for a living. I can hardly lay about at home and make my dear children food every day!” 

“Oh really Joyce? Well I’m  _ so  _ sorry that you can’t be bothered to try and find healthier options for your dear children.”

Gabriel couldn’t think of another insult, so instead he just whacked Sam on the arm. Sam turned to him, mouth open in an offended O. He lifted his arm to hit back but Gabriel looked pointedly at his bad arm. Sam’s mouth slowly shut and he narrowed his eyes. His arm then struck Gabriel in the worst form possible. 

Tickles. 

His hand was at Gabriel’s throat mercilessly and Gabriel made the least dignified squeaking sound known to man.

“Oh you bastard.” He squealed. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He tried to bat Sam away, but with only one arm that proved difficult. 

Sam stopped, but he was still turned towards Gabriel, grinning. Gabriel could not let him get away with being that hot and that close. He grabbed Sam by the back of the neck and pulled him close until their noses were touching.

“You’re insufferable, Samantha.” He whispered.

“Bite me, Gabrielle.” Sam muttered in return, eyes already shutting. 

Gabriel bit his lip. He  _ had  _ asked for it. Sam gasped and pulled away from the kiss and Gabriel bit his own lip to hold back his grin. 

“You asked for it.” He shrugged one shoulder. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “If I asked you to jump off a bridge would you do it?” 

“Yes.” Gabriel answered. He couldn't hold back his grin as Sam's face morphed into a picture of pure horror.

“Oh shit. I'm so sorry. I didn't think - I'm so so sorry. I'd never ask you to -” 

“For a guy who works with suicidal people for a living you have awful choices of phrases.” Gabriel giggled.

“You're not mad at me?”

“No, God no. Shit like that doesn't bother me. It's more entertaining than offensive.” 

“Thank God.” 

“Now shut up and kiss me.”

Sam did as instructed.


	5. Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> listen my buddies im the denim man

His mother visited every weekend, usually with his brothers. Usually while she was there Sam would take the day off and she would look after Gabriel. Michael and Luce spent most of the time arguing, even when they were otherwise occupied. They played against each other on Gabriel’s Xbox and whined at each other and whacked each other on the arms, both of them wanting to be in charge and have the best weapons. They played board games as a family and had to sit on opposite sides of the board. They'd been like this when Gabriel had last seen them, they'd been like this since puberty had hit. Castiel occasionally got frustrated and yelled at them to get along. One time he called them assbutts. Mother had no idea where he'd gotten that from, but it left the entire family in laughing fits and Castiel looking far too proud of himself after he'd finished yelling that it wasn't funny.

“Bye Gabe, see you on Sunday!” Sam yelled from the door one Friday night.

“See ya Sammy.” Gabriel yelled in return. He heard the door shut, however gently Sam had shut it, and he got an idea.

He rummaged around in his duvet for his phone and held it up above his face triumphantly. After getting his passcode wrong seven times because of his lack of another hand, dropping it on his face too many times because of the same handicap, and having autocorrect change ‘stay' to ‘edgy’ he managed to text Sam asking if he wanted to come round the next day anyway, as a friend (or maybe more) instead of a nurse.

Sam replied a minute later.

Sammy:

__As long as I wouldn't be imposing I'd love to!_ _

Gabriel:

__Yesss :D as long as u like board games and pizza u won't be imposing at all :*_ _

Sammy:

__You and your junk food. Well I guess I can make an exception. :*_ _

Gabriel did a celebratory fist pump, phone in hand, and promptly dropped it on his face again. Fucking Damn.

His family arrived before Sam the next day, and for a moment his paranoia overtook him. Sam probably wasn't coming. Sam didn't like him, why would he want to meet his family? Sam -

The doorbell sounded and his chest stopped feeling like it was about to burst. His mother answered for him and he heard Sam's low, calming (possibly very hot) tone alongside hers.

“Gabriel, your nurse is here.”

“Yeah, I invited him. This is Sam, my -” Goodbye impulse control. “Boyfriend. He's the one who's been looking after me during the week.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” Sam stuttered, probably surprised at Gabriel’s choice of words.

“And you.” His mother replied, amusement filling her tone.

“You love my brother?” Castiel demanded. Gabriel could hear Sam stammering and decided he needed a hero.

“Cassie, do you want to help Michael set up the game?”

Castiel scrambled around the couch immediately, he was never allowed to help with stuff like that.

“Sammy, come sit down over here.” Gabriel called.

“Do you want any help with anything?” Sam asked his mother nervously.

“No, no. You do enough in this house during the week, I could never ask you to help on the one day you have free. Go sit down, I'll make some snacks.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure. Go sit down and keep Gabriel company.”

“We’re here too, y'know.” Luce commented snarkily from his spot upside down on one of the armchairs.

“Some company he doesn't want to strangle.” Michael snorted.

“Gonna be pretty hard with this arm.” Gabriel replied cheerfully. He was so glad that his family didn't skirt around everything to do with death any more. “You're gonna have to do it for me Sammy.”

Sam finally joined him on the sofa. They grinned when their eyes met and Sam sat down carefully on his right side so that they could link fingers.

“So you're Gabe’s nurse _and_ his boyfriend huh? Ain't that going against some rule or something?” Luce asked, eyes narrowed, possibly because of the amount of blood traveling to his head.

“Well I was his nurse first, and I didn't think there was a point getting him another nurse just because the hospital might not like it.”

“How long have you been boyfriends?” Castiel demanded. There was an indefinite amount of question marks after the sentence, the way he said it.

“Almost three months?” Sam said carefully, watching Gabriel nod out the corner of his eye.

“Are you gonna get married?”

Sam choked on his own tongue. Gabriel giggled nervously.

“Cassie, have you finished putting the board out?” Mother came to the rescue.

“Yeah.”

“Then come here and get some snacks to bring through.”

Castiel skittered back around the couch to do so. Sam sighed deeply in relief.

“Are you okay with me calling you my boyfriend?” Gabriel murmured, leaning over to speak into Sam's ear.

“Oh, yeah, absolutely.” Sam whispered in return, turning to face Gabriel. Their eyes were inches from each other. Gabriel could see every spatter of green, every sliver of gold and drop of blue in Sam's irises. “Am I?” He asked after a second.

“What?”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you want to be.” Gabriel nodded, their noses bumping together.

“Awesome. Amazing.” Sam grinned. Gabriel found his lips in a quick, chaste kiss. They turned back to pay attention to the rest of the room, Michael was fiddling with the music and Luce was looking at them with an eyebrow raised towards the floor.

“You two are too cute, I might just vomit.” He deadpanned. Gabriel saw Sam’s flush out the corner of his eye. He stuck his tongue out at his brother. Luce stuck his out in return. There was a piercing there that had not been there last week.

“When’d you get that done?” Gabriel asked.

“Thursday.”

“Looks good.” He approved.

“It looks tacky.” Mother scolded, coming to sit down; snacks in hand, Castiel at her heels.

“I take it you didn't approve beforehand?” Gabriel asked, directing his question at their mother rather than his brother.

“He ‘forgot' to.” Michael pitched in.

“I would have asked, but you were too busy.” Luce whined, “And anyway, you always tell us that it's our body, we should do what we want with it.”

“I said that about clothing. You can wear your skirts over your jeans and your Slipknot t-shirts, but putting holes in places in your body that you might regret later in life is a different story."

“You have your ears pierced!”

“Yes, but that's not my _tongue_. Anyway. No more arguing in front of Sam, we don't want him to feel awkward.”

“Monopoly!” Castiel demanded, pointing to the board.

“Monopoly it is.” Gabriel chuckled. “Sammy, what piece do you want to be?”

“I don't mind.” Sam smiled awkwardly.

“Choose!” Cas told him, running over and holding a handful of pieces in front of his face.

“Cassie, what have we said about manners.” Mother chided.

“Sorry mommy. Please choose?”

“Alright, uh, I'll take the iron.” Sam shrugged, taking the piece from Castiel's surprisingly clean hands.

“Gabriel, your turn please.”

“I'm shotgunning the dog, no returns.” He crowed, snatching the piece up triumphantly after releasing Sam's hand.

Luce stuck his tongue out again.

They played for a good two hours, Michael lost horrifically. Luce followed suit when he got distracted from the game by kicking at his brother, and they both gave up and turned on the Xbox. Castiel and their mother were a surprisingly good team, but even they eventually went bankrupt. The real competition was between Sam and Gabriel.

Gabriel’s tactic was to whisper either inappropriate or just plain stupid things into Sam’s ear in an attempt to distract him, Sam’s was to ignore his boyfriend and scrutinise the board. Needless to say, Sam won. He won by a landslide, Gabriel was too busy giggling to himself and whispering ‘jorts’ into Sam’s ear.

Gabriel’s family left soon after, his mother having insisted on tidying up. Sam and Gabriel turned the TV on after they were gone and it didn’t look like they were coming back. Gabriel was still laughing to himself about one imaginary jean item or another (jalaclava was his favourite at the time). After a few episodes of some awful soap, Sam gently lifted Gabriel up and carried him into the bedroom. He laid him down on the bed and straddled him, kissed at his neck. One hand above his head and the other on his chest over his shirt.

“You’re a fucking menace.” Sam sighed between kisses. “You’re far too cute for your own good.”

Gabriel started giggling madly. “Hey, hey, hey, Sam.”

“What?” Sam hummed into his neck.

“Don’t forget the jondom.”

Sam left the room.


	6. Like Riding a Bike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i realised that this chapter was tiny and also its a bank holiday so take it

Sam was the first person he high fived when his arm was better. Sam joked that in that now that it was useable, he could cook for himself, that he didn't need him any more. 

Gabriel couldn't find words to tell Sam exactly how much he wanted him to stay, so he didn't. His mind told him Sam wouldn't want to anyway. 

Sam held his hand when he tried to stand up for the first time too.

“I feel like a freaking toddler.” Gabriel groaned, staring down at his shaking legs. His bones ached, his joints ached, he ached in general.

He took a tentative step forwards. Both of his hands were fisted in Sam's shirt. Sam was stood in front of him, stepping backwards when Gabriel stepped forwards, and when Gabriel glanced up he could see the amused smirk he wore.

“Stop laughing at me.” Gabriel grumbled.

“I'm not laughing!” 

“You are too! Internally.” Gabriel whined. He tried to stamp his foot and lost balance. His grip on Sam's shirt tightened and Sam grabbed a hold of his waist. “Shitshitshitshit.” He squeaked, trying to find his balance. 

Once he had regained it, he loosened his grip on Sam and let out a sigh of relief. 

“You okay now?” Sam murmured.

Gabriel looked up at him. He was craning his head up, Sam was looking down and their noses didn't even touch. Talk about a height difference.

“I might feel better if you kiss it better.” Gabriel pouted.

“Aww, where does it hurt?” Sam asked. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Gabriel’s forehead. “Here?”

Gabriel shook his head, Sam kissed his temple. “Here?”

“Nope, keep looking.”

Sam lead a trail of kisses down Gabriel’s face, pausing after each one for Gabriel to shake his head. When he finally reached Gabriel’s lips Gabriel didn't let him pull away. It was like their relationship was a string of clichés and Gabriel didn't give a damn.


	7. Permanent Past

“This is so  _ boring.”  _ Gabriel groaned childishly.

Sam had offered to come over and look for job vacancies for Gabriel. He might not have been able to walk properly just yet but he was well on his way, and he really did need some income, he couldn't survive off his mother forever. Especially not if he wanted to disappear again. So they were sat on Gabriel's sofa in their underwear after Gabriel's attempt at distraction by leading them into bed for the full day (he’d managed to distract Sam for three hours, still).

“Boring or not, it needs to be done.” Sam pointed out. Yes, that was true. However, Gabriel wanted him to consider one tiny fact; he didn’t want to.

He groaned again and swiveled (slowly and carefully because apparently there was some metal shit in his pelvis and he didn’t want to deal with what could happen with that if it broke) so that his head was in Sam’s lap and his legs (another reason for his slow careful swiveling) were hanging off the arm of the chair. He watched Sam’s face as he browsed for jobs fitting Gabriel’s criteria (which were mostly things like bartending and waiting) and began to trace his tattoos with his fingers.

To put it frankly; Sam had some fucking  _ wicked  _ tattoos. 

Down one arm he had a beautiful, bold sleeve: there was a golden retriever on his shoulder in striking shades of orange and yellow, surrounded by a frame of red roses that lead green roots to curl around his collar, a few even going so far as to reach around to the other side of his neck; the roses became a softer and softer pink as they lead down his arm until they turned white and mixed with white magnolias which soon became the only flower; the lilies fell down his arm and mixed with softer green roots that twisted into the shapes of animals, running down towards his wrist where the sleeve ended in a bracelet of blue purple forget-me-nots and small gold leaves.

On his left arm he had a half sleeve. It began at his wrist with a rope woven with red poppies that went upwards onto the underside of his arm in the shape of the dark mark from Harry Potter (which would have been enough to prove that he was a massive fucking nerd even if Gabriel didn’t already know). On the outside of his arm a tree emerged from the rope, bare of leaves but covered in tiny butterflies, some of the branches were bare, stark white and spindly, but the ones that weren’t were absolutely packed. The butterflies were every shade of probably every colour possible to make out of tattoo inks, each one tiny but recognisable as the bug. The branches twisted around the rope to cover the entirety of the blank space, and up the sides of the tree were the letters D and J in black cursive. Gabriel imagined that this was either the artist’s finest work or the piece he most despised. 

On the inside of his index finger on his right hand he had the writing from the One Ring (further proof of his nerdiness). And on his chest above his heart he had a black pentagram surrounded by what looked like the sun’s rays, again in black, which he told Gabriel was an anti-possession tattoo he’d gotten during his time as a student when his brother was studying Mythology and he Medicine. 

On his hip he had an octopus, tentacles wrapped around down his leg. It was bright purple and green, with thick black lines. It was more like a cartoon than realism, a delicately harsh cartoon, if such a thing exists., the tentacles almost began to drip near his calf. And on the back of his neck, usually hidden by his hair, he had a small line drawing of the Starship Enterprise (NERD).

“Why’d you get this?” He asked, pointing at the octopus. 

“Oh, that? We used to go to aquariums all over the world when we traveled, and in this really awful, tiny little one on the coast here there was an octopus. It was in a tank that it could hardly move in and Dean and I decided to save it.” 

Gabriel snorted, he should have known Sam was the type to save animals like that. 

“So we waited until night and broke in, Dean found this massive bucket that we filled with water, so we opened the tank and it practically jumped out into the bucket. It was like it trusted us. It was pretty awesome.

“So we're there with this octopus in a bucket that we can hardly carry between us and we hear footsteps. The door is about ten meters away and it's the only way out because this is the shittiest aquarium probably in the world - it didn't even have CCTV. The floor is bumpy and we keep tripping over and there's water splashing out of the bucket leaving a trail behind us. Somehow we manage to get outside just as we hear someone behind us yelling. So Dean grabs this wheelbarrow that's just lying in front of the place and we put the bucket in it. So Dean pushes from the back and I try to keep it straight because the wheel on this thing is wonky as heck. 

“And we run down the road and to the beach and once we’re there the barrow gets stuck so we stagger the rest of the way to the water. Bearing in mind it's like one in the morning and the only light comes from the stars and the moon, so the water gets us before we realise it’s there. It soaks through our shoes and it's absolutely  _ freezing _ . So we put the bucket down and slowly tip it over and this little octopus crawls out and latches onto Dean’s hand just before it leaves. It was pretty damn awesome.” 

Sam's mouth while he told the story was constantly upturned, and Gabriel would have been grinning watching him even if the story had been dull as doorknobs. His eyes shone blue and yellow in the light and one of his hands absent-mindedly ran through his hair while the other waved about to emphasise points in his story.

“Should have known you were a little rebel as a kid.” Gabriel teased. 

A blush ran across Sam's cheeks. “The animal was in a shitty place, we had to do something.” Gabriel pulled his hand from his hair and pressed it to his own lips. “You want to hear about another one?”

Gabriel nodded, finished kissing his hand. “Is that your dog?” He asked, walking his fingers up Sam's right arm, tracing some of the flowers on the way. 

“Yeah, that's Bones. I had him while I was in college. He was the sweetest thing, but he thought he was a lot smaller than he was. The amount of times he knocked chairs over trying to walk under them was ridiculous.” Sam laughed. “He, ah, he died in a house fire.” 

Gabriel's finger stroked over the tattoo dog’s forehead. “Least he had a nice life.” He offered.

“Yeah.” Sam smiled. 

“What about the flowers? And the roots?” 

“Oh, that's just because I thought those would look nice.” 

“And the tree here?” Gabriel hummed. His hand switched arms. 

“My mom loved butterflies.” Sam grinned. “The artist hated doing this one, they spent the whole time complaining. I was there with a damn needle in my skin for hours and they were there moaning about the amount of fucking butterflies.” 

“So your brother didn't do that one?” 

“Oh, no. He was just as intimidated.”

“Don't blame him. If I had to do that I think I would be bored out of my mind. Though to be honest…” He bit his lip. “If it was you I was tattooing I would  _ not  _ mind.” 

Sam chuckled slightly. “Because of my brilliant personality?”

“Oh God yes. I could talk to you for hours.” Gabriel grinned. “And I could stare at that chest for hours too.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “I wouldn't trust you to tattoo my arm if you were staring at my chest the whole time.” 

“That, is probably a fair enough point.” Gabriel laughed. “Okay, okay, what do these letters mean?” He asked, tapping on the ‘D’ and ‘J’.

“Well, D is Dean. And J is - was my girlfriend: Jess.” 

“Kiss of death?” Gabriel winced.

Sam shut his eyes. “Not so much - ah - she was my girlfriend in college. We lived together, Bones was our dog. And I went out with my brother one night and while I was away there was some kind of gas leak or something and the entire building just went up in flames.” 

“Shit. That's - that's rough.” 

“Yeah. I got this in memory of her, y'know? She was really important to me and I just - I wanted to feel like she was still here with me.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Gabriel nodded, no mask over the emotions on his face. He was sad, he was jealous, he was sympathetic, he was understanding. He hoped Sam could see each of those. 

“Good. Thanks. We need to keep looking for a job for you.” Sam coughed. 

“ _ Or _ you could tell me about tattoos you want in the future.” Gabriel suggested. 

“Yeah, that works too.” Sam chuckled. “Well I was thinking of getting something on my back, not sure what yet. Something big.” 

“My dick.” Gabriel said automatically.

“Oh my God, you child.” Sam groaned. He lifted his hand to his mouth, trying to hide a grin, but his dimples gave it away. 

“What? It was a good suggestion!” 

“Yeah right. A suggestion that would get me on  _ Tattoo Fixers _ maybe, but not a good one.” 

“Okay, okay. Fine.”

His hand slid up Sam's arm to his shoulder and down over his chest. His palm brushed over his nipple and Sam shivered. Gabriel grinned.

“What about here?” He asked, circling one finger around Sam's belly button, biting his lip. 

“Never really thought about it.” Sam shrugged. He was clearly not thinking of it just then either. 

“You should get ‘property of Gabriel’ here.” Gabriel suggested. He walked his fingers down to just above his boxers and ghosted it over the skin, watching his stomach suck in of it's own accord as he gasped. 

“You're the king of bad ideas.” Sam laughed breathlessly. 

“I know.” Gabriel winked. “And you should get an arrow leading down here.” His hand slipped below the waistline of the boxers.


	8. He Keeps Me Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow this is pretty gay

Gabriel did not want to get up. He stared at the ceiling and felt the sinking feeling open up in his stomach. This was not going to be a good day. This was going to be one of those days where he would not want to get out of bed, where he would wish he could curl up on his side, but he couldn't, because of his fucking pelvis and his fucking legs and just his everything. 

He heard the door swing shut, fuck, that meant Sam was in a good mood. He usually loved Sam in a good mood - hell, he loved Sam in any mood. But on days like that, he really could not deal with it.

"Gabriel, I'm here." Sam called. There was a rustling as he put down some bags on the counter in the kitchen and sorted through them. Gabriel wanted to whine, but the walls were too thin, Sam would hear him and come in to find out what the matter was. "Gabriel, you awake?"

He could pretend to be asleep, maybe Sam would let him stay asleep. But no, his eyes wanted to stay open, he still wanted the fucking attention. He wished he could just walk out. Once again his fucking legs, ruining everything. Sam came in and sat on the bed next to him, Gabriel continued staring at the ceiling. Maybe Sam would leave, no, hopefully he'd stay. Gabriel couldn't make up his fucking mind. Jesus. 

"You having a bad day?"

Gabriel nodded slightly, he forced himself to look at Sam. He was watching him with fucking sympathy in his eyes, fuck. His hand stroked up and down Gabriel's arm like he was his damn mother. He was a grown ass man, he shouldn't want this much attention, damn it. 

"You want me to make you some food?" Sam asked, hand wrapping around his wrist. Gabriel shook his head, he didn't think he was hungry. "Want me to lie with you?"

Gabriel nodded, that was exactly what he wanted, or at least that was what he thought he wanted. Sam crawled over Gabriel onto the side of the bed where there was more space. He tucked his head into Gabriel's neck and laid one long arm over his chest, knees brought up to his chest and pressing against Gabriel's blanket covered side. 

"You want to talk about it?"

He did, but the words didn't want to come. No words wanted to come, he was rendered mute by his own fucking brain, wonderful. Days like this came once in awhile, sometimes he could go months without them, sometimes he'd have five in a row. He hated them and he hated himself for having them. He shook his head. 

"Okay." Sam murmured, kissing his neck. "That's fine, you want me to put music on? I don't need to get up, I can just put it on on my phone." Gabriel nodded in confirmation, maybe music would stop his body from feeling so empty. He should have been able to get up and put it on himself, fuck. If only he could. It was his own damn fault his legs didn't work, if only he hadn't failed the jump. "What do you want to listen to? Something calm?" Gabriel shook his head, that would only make him feel more like shit. "Okay, loud?" He nodded. "What about AC/DC?" Perfect. Gabriel nodded and tilted his head so that his cheek was resting on Sam's hair. It was soft and felt more real than the rest of the world at that moment. Sam shifted and fidgeted, getting his phone out of his pocket. The music started playing, slightly tinny, but loud. Gabriel sighed gratefully, he could focus on something other than his head, thank fuck. 

They didn't talk, they laid there for what could have been hours, Gabriel couldn't tell, he was too stuck in his own self loathing trying to pull himself out. Sam kept kissing his neck, reminding him that he was there. His hand rubbed at Gabriel's arm, one of his knees occasionally twitched. 

Gabriel could have lain there forever. But he needed to get up for his own sake. 

"Can we try to walk?" He asked, words coming painfully slowly back to him. Sam jumped slightly, he had either been falling asleep or was just not expecting Gabriel to talk. 

"Yeah, of course." Sam nodded, already unfolding from his position. He stood up, stretched his hands above his head and down towards his toes. That position couldn't have been comfortable for a damn giant like him, Gabriel was more grateful than he could say that he'd stayed there with him. "Do you need help getting up?"

"Nope." Gabriel was determined, he wasn't gonna be helped forever damn it, so he didn't need help now. He sat up and threw back the blanket, revealing his pyjama clad legs. He swivelled so that they were hanging off the bed and wiggled his toes. His legs worked just fine theoretically, it was just that he'd spent so long not using them that it the muscles had deteriorated. He stood up shakily, managing to keep his balance. The tips of his fingers on his left hand touched the wall, just in case.

His bedroom was roughly fifteen foot from the door to the opposite wall, and twenty feet between the two other walls. He had a double bed up against the same wall as the door, in the centre of the room. His chest of drawers was next to the bed on the opposite side to the door (the right side of the room), but half of his clothes were usually on his armchair anyway. There was a wardrobe and a full length mirror that he usually kept covered in the right corner. On top of the wardrobe was a box filled with shit he didn't have a place for. And he had three bookcases against the wall opposite his bed, each one absolutely full. 

He walked from the door to the opposite wall, his legs shook slightly but he managed to get across relatively easily. He leaned against the wall and looked at the twenty foot walk to where Sam stood. He could do that. 

He made it halfway across the room before his foot caught on a fucking loose floorboard. But then Sam was there to catch him. 

“Hey, hey, it's okay.” Sam shushed him as he yowled in frustration. He should be able to  _ do  _ this! Babies could do this! “You can try again.” Sam pulled him into a tight hug and kissed his forehead calmly. “Hey. Wait here a second.” He made sure Gabriel had one hand on the bookcase before crawling across the bed to grab his phone and type something in. The music stopped, and a minute later a new song started. Sam crawled back across to Gabriel, smiled at him nervously and offered his hand.

Gabriel took it. The tension and frustration bled from him as Sam pulled him close. He shut his eyes, nuzzled his face into Sam's chest and let him lead the dance, the soft swaying they were doing that mimicked a dance, at least. His feet moved properly, and with Sam helping him his muscles didn't have to hold him up fully. 

“Are we seriously dancing to Macklemore?” Gabriel laughed softly, Sam chuckled in response and dipped Gabriel slightly so that he could kiss at his neck.

“When I was in third grade, I thought that I was gay, ‘cause I could draw, and I - fuck.” Sam mumbled the lyrics into Gabriel’s ear, tripping over them and eventually just giving up. Gabriel giggled slightly, pushed his boyfriend into a standing position and pulled his head down so that their lips could meet. 

“You’re a mess, Sammy.” They both smiled into the kiss, too much for it to really work as a kiss any more, but neither of them cared. Gabriel became more confident with his feet, even if he wasn’t able to use his legs to their full extent, he could still move them the way he was meant to. The chorus came around, Gabriel started to hum to it, his arms were wrapped around Sam’s neck, his eyes were shut peacefully/

"Can I spin you?" Sam asked. Gabriel's eyes flew open and panic started to resurface, his heart started to pound, nonono what if he fell and Sam thought he was stupid and realised he was too good for him? Gabriel froze, forgot that they were dancing, when Sam tried to move he tightened his grip on his waist. Sam seemed to realise something was wrong. "Hey? Babe, you okay? I don't have to if you aren't comfortable, or you don't think you can do it.

"I can spin just fucking fine." Gabriel snapped. Fuck, that wasn't the tone he wanted to use with Sam. "Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay Gabriel. I understand. Just lean against me, let me lead. It's okay, breathe." Gabriel didn't realise he'd started hyperventilating. Oh God, oh no. He was having a fucking panic attack. 

He could feel his heart now as it started to worm its way into his head, pounding and pounding and distracting him from trying to listen to anything else. His lungs were dead, he couldn't use them. They were too small, he couldn't get enough air to breathe, and his heart needed so much. He was going to die he was going to die he was going to die. Sam's hands were so harsh on him, he felt them like electric shocks and he wanted them  _ off _ . Please dear God get off. Sam gently pushed him towards the bed but it felt like getting stabbed. He felt wrong in his skin, like it wasn't his body. He felt like he’d just had the worst high of his life and his arms were nothing more than static. Sam needed to just get off, stop touching him because it  _ hurt _ . He tried to tell him to, but he couldn't breathe to speak. His voice box was shrivelled and unusable. He made a feeble noise in distress and could barely hear Sam comforting him over the pounding of his heart trying to leave his body. Sam lead him to sit down and then finally, finally let go and allowed him to curl into a ball. All the while he spoke, telling Gabriel it was going to be okay, reminding him to breathe. Gabriel listened and tried to obey. Even if his breaths were shallow, as long as he had someone there telling him he could breathe, he could at least try. Sam's voice was so comforting, it was the chain attached to the buoy while he was drowning under a sea of panic. His mind was yelling, trying to drown Sam's positivity out. It was the seaweed wrapping around Gabriel's ankles trying to drag him down into the darkness, trying to wrap around his chest and squeeze the air from his lungs. 

He dug his nails into his arms, adding to the things he could focus on rather than this. His lungs squeezed tighter, Sam encouraged him to breathe. His mind was overwhelming him, he was dizzy, he couldn't tell which way was up. He felt like he was about to pass out. He couldn't do this, nonono. Oh god fuck he couldn't do it. 

"Gabriel. It's gonna be okay, I promise Gabriel. It’s gonna be fine. Gabriel.” 

Gabriel couldn't hear the words in between. He could only hear his name. He focused on that, tried to block his head out. Tried to get rid of his own mind. He was still drowning but he could see the surface now. Sam's grip, his voice, was tugging him into a place where he could breathe. And he did breathe. He gasped and he gulped and he felt his heart sulk back into his chest, the voices in his head died down, but his voice didn't come back. 

He forced himself to release his arms from the vice-like grip his hands had on them. There were tears streaming down his cheeks. Fuck damn. He grabbed a pillow and wiped his face on it, but the tears were still coming. He stared down at the pillow for a moment like it had betrayed him, then he sought Sam out. He needed to thank him. Sam’s eyes were wide, his eyebrows were low with worry, his teeth had trapped his bottom lip. 

Gabriel crawled across the bed and straddled Sam. He wrapped his arms tightly around his neck and fit his head into the curve of Sam’s neck. Sam’s arms crossed over on his back and his hands dug into his shoulders.


	9. Short

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys, im not really feeling good at all at the moment so this is all i've been capable of writing :/

Gabriel wasn’t able to walk properly. 

 

It was doubtful that he would ever be. He had a stick though, that helped him to keep balance. The stick was a gift from Michael and Luce. It was one thing they actually agreed on somehow, though they still argued over who got to hand it to him. It was black wood, the hand hold was padded with red foam. It was cut to look like the branch from a tree, the twins told him it would make him look like a wizard.

 

He walked to Sam's flat with it after the twins and his mother went home. He was slightly out of breath when he got there, it was an hour’s walk away, but the shocked yell of ‘what?!’ when he buzzed made it worth it. Sam's paper white, disbelieving face (and lack of clothing) when he reached his apartment made it even more so. 

 

“What the  _ hell _ Gabriel?” Sam spluttered. 

 

“I wanted to visit you.” Gabriel shrugged. 

 

Sam blinked at him, his mouth tried to form other words but failed.

 

“You gonna let me in any time soon?” 

 

Sam stepped inside and watched Gabriel walk with his stick in surprise, mild horror and a hint of pride. Gabriel moved past him and Sam stayed stock still and watched him walk into the lounge and out of sight.

 

Gabriel sat slowly on the couch and pulled his shoes of equally slowly. When Sam didn't come into the room once they were off he rolled his eyes.

 

Rude to keep a guest waiting Samuel.” He sang.

 

“What the  _ hell  _ Gabriel?” Sam exploded from the hall. Gabriel grinned. “You live like, six blocks away. It's gotta have taken you at least an hour to get here. You couldn't have called? What if you'd fallen over or gotten mugged or - or.” He was in the room by this point, having paced in looking like a worried mother.” Gabriel stood up and grabbed him by the arm. Sam turned to look at him, eyes wide and anxious. 

 

Gabriel kissed him. Sam's lips were pursed but moved like ice melting into the kiss. 

 

“Sorry baby I was just - I panicked. I forgot you're a capable human being.” 

 

“Oh I'll show you what I'm capable of.” Gabriel grinned.

 

Sam laughed, short and loud. “Is this a booty call, Gabe?” 

 

“Might be.” Gabriel’s lips moved on to Sam’s neck. His cold hands ran down Sam's chest, found his nipples.

  
“You're unbelievable.” Sam chuckled, hands already on Gabriel's ass.


	10. Body Positive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i was going to attempt to write more before posting this bit but i just, i feel too bad atm to write anything uplifting which was going to be the point of the chapters before. so im gonna post the stuff i have written weekly and then fill in some gaps if i can and if i need to.

Gabriel stood in front of the mirror and stared, it was six am and he couldn’t get back to sleep. His legs were mostly back to the way they had been, his right ankle was still wonky, he’d have to use his stick for the rest of his life. He could probably dress up as House for halloween though, that was a perk. 

 

He ran a finger across one of the scars on his stomach. It was pink and white and stood out in a ridge above the rest of his skin, there was another one just above it, slightly smaller and paler. There were in fact dozens. He looked like Frankenstein’s monster. His legs too were covered in pink and white lines, like cracks that had been filled in with wall filler. His hands ran over his entire body, the network of scars that was everywhere. He was almost attempting a magic trick, trying to see if they would disappear if he touched them enough. Sam’s arms joined his, slowing them down. Behind him in their reflection Sam was tan and unmarked. His tattoos were the only things that stood out, the rest of his skin was perfect and smooth. He gave Gabriel’s nipples a playful tweak and smiled sleepily. 

 

“What’re you doing up so early?” He murmured. 

 

“Woke up, wasn’t tired.” 

 

“You okay babe?” Sam asked. 

 

Gabriel sighed and gestured at the mirror. “The scars. I look disgusting.”

 

Sam straightened up, stepped to Gabriel’s left, and span him, hands on his arms. His mouth was set in a firm line that meant he was going to say something important and Gabriel was going to have to listen.

 

“You don’t look disgusting, you look fucking beautiful. The scars don’t change that fact, okay?”

 

Gabriel looked back in the mirror again to get away from the intensity of Sam’s eyes. There was a huge scar along his side and asscheek. And he was so short. In front of Sam, who was the perfect size for a man, he was tiny. He was below average, and he hated that. There were dimples on his elbows because he couldn’t get rid of the damn fat on his arms, his stomach stuck out too much.

 

“Listen to me, Gabriel. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. I mean it.” Sam’s hands let go of Gabriel’s shoulders. One of them cupped Gabriel’s chin and forced him to look back into Sam’s currently storm grey eyes. The other curled around Gabriel’s waist. “And if I have to kiss every inch of you, I’m going to make you believe that.” Gabriel didn’t answer. Sam’s lips met his forehead. They traced the shape of his face, then filled it in, kissed his eyelids and his nose, his lips. They didn’t stay there though. Sam bent down even further to kiss Gabriel’s neck. He walked around his boyfriend kissing circles around every inch of it, hand following on Gabriel’s waist. 

 

His kisses circled Gabriel’s chest and both his arms, lingering when he found a scar. He lowered himself to his knees and kissed every single inch of his lower body before his mouth ran back up the inside of his thigh and his nose bumped against Gabriel’s balls. His mouth kept travelling up, tongue first, along Gabriel’s cock, tempting all the blood in his body towards it. Gabriel gasped, Sam’s eyes darted up to meet his, pupils wide and surrounded by a ring of silver. He winked and his mouth closed over the head of Gabriel’s cock briefly. He lifted his hand and wrapped it around, Gabriel gasped again. He felt lightheaded as all the blood in his entire fucking body tried to get to Sam through his cock. Sam’s tongue ran circles around the head while he stroked a slow, steady pace with his hand. Gabriel’s mouth fell open of its own accord and released a low moan. 

 

His eyes wanted to fall shut but he forced them to stay open and look at Sam. His hair was messy from sleep, his feet were neatly crossed as he kneeled on the carpeted floor. He took more of Gabriel’s cock into his mouth to coax the blood fully along, tongue flat, pushing up against it. He’d pulled his spit slick lips in over his teeth in a poor approximation of a mouth guard. Gabriel bit his lip as Sam’s mouth replaced his hand and his nose bumped against his stomach. Sam was still staring up at him with wide, almost innocent, eyes. He slowly pulled back, sucking in even as he did. He pulled off almost fully, until just his lips were pressed against the head in a kiss. His tongue slipped out and ran in small circles over the slip, winding Gabriel into a gasp that came out a whimper. 

 

“Fuck, Sam.” He breathed. “Your mouth, you’re incredible.” His hands came to grasp Sam’s hair.

 

Sam hummed amusedly, mouth slipping back along Gabriel’s length as he did. 

 

“Oh God, fuck yes Sam.”

 

Sam’s mouth withdrew with a subtle pop. “Shouldn’t blaspheme, Gabriel.” He tutted. “Might just leave you hanging here if you do.”

 

Gabriel whined in protest. “Sorry, sorry. Won’t do it again.” He promised. Sam raised his eyebrows and smirked, then his mouth was on Gabriel and his cock was bumping against the back of his throat before he could register it. He made a noise somewhere between a yell and a moan, and his heart jumped into his throat. Sam almost coughed, but he swallowed before he could. His throat closed around Gabriel’s dick and Gabriel’s eyes fluttered. His mouth fell open and his breathing was shaky and loud in the otherwise silent room. Sam started to bob his head quickly, throat enclosing Gabriel’s dick in sensation. 

 

“Fuck, Sam, G - oh  _ shit  _ Sam, yes. You’re so, fuck. You’re magical.” Sam laughed around him, and Gabriel’s head started swimming over the edge of the waterfall. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” He groaned. Sam pulled off, wrapped his hand around Gabriel’s cock. Gabriel assumed he was going to stroke him the rest of the way, but instead his forefinger and thumb encircled around his dick  _ and  _ balls and tightened. Gabriel whined in confusion.

 

“Look at yourself.” Sam ordered. Gabriel’s eyes lingered on him, brows furrowed. Sam looked pointedly at the mirror, and Gabriel followed his gaze reluctantly. He looked at Sam first. 

His lips were red and shiny, his hair was still everywhere, moreso because of Gabriel’s pulling. His dick was hard and alert against his stomach, leaking. His knees looked red even from this angle. His focus then shifted to himself. His chest was heaving, his stomach still stuck out that bit too far. His skin was reddened, and his scars stood out even paler. “What do you look like?”

 

Gabriel shrugged, his words were released a murmur but they echoed in the silence. “Ugly.” He answered honestly. 

 

Sam huffed frustratedly. “You know what you look like to me?”

 

Gabriel shrugged again. 

 

“You look so, so beautiful. And I’m not letting you cum until you admit it.” Gabriel thought he might as well walk away and get back into bed right then and there. 

 

Sam didn’t stop talking. He stood up slowly, wincing slightly. He stood behind Gabriel, one hand trailed down his chest, his fingers found his nipple and pinched. His dick was pressed against Gabriel’s back, and his head swam wanting to cum at even just that feeling. “You’re stunning, fuck, Gabriel. Just looking at you makes me breathless. I can’t believe I get to be with you. You aren’t a sum of your scars - hell, your scars don’t do jack shit to change how I feel about you. ‘Cept maybe make me love you even more. You’re so beautiful and so incredible Gabriel, okay?”

 

Gabriel nodded reluctantly. He still had no idea how Sam thought that of him, but at least for now he could accept it. He turned around slowly, Sam allowed him, and buried his head in Sam’s chest. Sam kissed the top of his head and one of his hands wrapped around his cock and started slowly stroking. Gabriel came within a minute with a whimpered cry and fell to his knees. He batted Sam’s hands away when he tried to help him up, and closed his mouth around Sam’s cock. He couldn’t imagine he was anywhere near as good at this as Sam, but he could try. He licked upwards and caught the head in his lips, Sam’s moan in response was loud and desperate. Sam was loud in bed, but this was a whole new level. Sam’s cock slid into his mouth, not even all the way, before he was whining Gabriel’s name and warning him that he was about to cum. He tried to pull away, but Gabriel held firmly to his hips and growled at the hands in his hair. Sam came down his throat, moaning Gabriel’s name, toes curled. 


End file.
